


Three shots

by DorianWilde



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Blood, Bromance, Character Death, Friendship, Guns, Hurt Stiles, Hurt/Comfort, So much angst, Suicide Attempt, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-01
Updated: 2013-09-01
Packaged: 2017-12-25 07:12:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/950203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DorianWilde/pseuds/DorianWilde
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It only takes three shots to ruin several lives.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Three shots

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you've read the warnings. Enjoy.

They're at a stalemate. The five Argents on one side, guns out, and Derek, Stiles, the Sheriff and Isaac on the other. Scott is on his way, at least Derek hopes he is. The forest is still for now, it makes him uneasy.

 

“Everybody stay calm,” the Sheriff is saying, holding up his hands, taking a few steps towards the hunters. “There is no need to-” A shot rings out and everyone freezes, staring transfixed as he falls.

 

“Dad!” Stiles' scream is horrible. “Nononononono,” he begs silently, skidding to a halt. He falls to his knees, frantically checking for any sign of life, fingers clumsy with panic. Derek can't hear a heartbeat, can't hear the rush of air that signals breathing and suddenly it's hard for Derek to breathe. Suddenly the air smells like smoke and burning flesh and-

 

Focus.

 

“Stiles.” Derek wants to run over to him, hold him, comfort him but there are hunters surrounding them and he can't let his guard down for even a moment.

 

“Dad.” Stiles is sobbing now, rocking back and forth, clutching his father's dead body. Blood is soaking his shirt but he doesn't seem aware of it. “Please don't be dead, dad, please. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry-” He's gasping for breath and Derek can hear his heart rate, painfully quick. The hunters stare as if in chock, guns still raised but not really aimed. The eyes of the man responsible flickers between Stiles and his father to Chris Argent. He looks apprehensive, not guilty, not shameful. Not like a man who have just murdered the last parent of an eighteen year-old boy.

 

It's been silent for far too long, both sides at a loss for words as Stiles' sounds like he's choking, face hidden at the crook of the Sheriff's neck. Derek thinks he can almost taste the pain, can smell the stale stench of sorrow. He takes a step forward because Stiles is hurting, and he can't just not-

 

“Stay where you are.” Chris has his gun pointed at him. “This is unfortunate. An accident.”

 

Derek is growling, his entire being almost _aching_ to attack. To bite and claw and try to fix everything. To make Stiles whole again. He focuses on the hunters now, body tensing up.

 

The second shot comes as a surprise as well. The anonymous hunter falls, not even making a sound, the bullet having made a hole in his head. He can't see Stiles' face, but his hands are steady as he aims his fathers gun. He manages two more shots into another hunter's abdomen before the remaining three hunters points their guns at him. Derek doesn't think, he just moves, Isaac beside him. They're on the Argents in a second, and they have the advantage now because they're two against three and they're filled with justified rage.

 

There's blood dripping down his chin and he can't be bothered to care. Isaac is in a similar state, three hunters dead at their feet and two wounded. He can hear running steps in the distance, Scott and a human. Chris looks up at him and Derek knows he will live because enough parents have been killed today and Allison is a good kid, despite being an Argent.

 

“Stiles, don't!” Scott's voice is terrified and Derek reacts instinctively. He lounges at Stiles, tearing the gun pointing at his temple away from him. Stiles is shaking and Derek forcefully pulls him up and away from the body, turning him towards himself and holds him. Stiles struggles for a few seconds before clinging to him instead, screaming out his sorrow, voice muffled against Derek's chest, hands fisting his shirt.

 

“Oh my god,” Allison says softly, surveying the scene.

 

“It was an accident,” her father tells her, and Derek suddenly wishes he _had_ killed him. Because it being 'an accident' makes is sound so mundane. So un-important. An accident is when you spill wine on your shirt or bumps into someone. Not when someone gets shot. Not when someone dies.

 

Scott drapes himself over Stiles' back, whispering to him, asking him to 'be strong', promising to be there, 'they'll get through this together', telling him he loves him, voice cracking. Derek gently nuzzles Stiles' hair, a gesture he's always felt comforted by, a reminder of his own parents. Stiles' breath is hot against his shoulder, his shaking having subsided into shivers.

 

“I've got you,” Derek whispers, because he should say something, because that's what Laura had told him.

 

Stiles lets go and steps back, Scott's arms still around him. His eyes are red and he looks... confused, almost. Lost. He swallows, eyes flickering everywhere except to the Sheriff's body. He shrugs Scott off, looking small and fragile with his arms around himself. Derek wonders if he himself had looked like that to the Sheriff once, covered in soot and broken by loss.

 

“I'm-” Stiles shakes his head, frowning. He closes his eyes for a moment, takes a shuddering breath. Allison is helping her father get up, it's lucky Derek isn't an alpha anymore, as it is the bite will only leave a nasty scar. He can't stand the thought of Chris Argent as a wolf, it's an abomination. He meets Scott's eyes, probably mirroring his look of helplessness. Simultaneously both of them turns towards Stiles who have once again kneeled next to his dad. Stiles is correcting his clothes, stroking his forehead while mumbling to himself. Derek sees a movement out of the corner of his eye but he isn't fast enough. The third shot rings out and for a moment he can't react. Scott is next to Stiles before Derek even moves.

 

“Stiles? Stiles, talk to me man. Come on.” Scott cradles him, unknowingly mirroring the earlier scene between father and son. Derek slits the hunter's throat with his claws, trusting Allison will keep an eye on her father as he turns his back on them. Scott is taking Stiles' pain while Isaac sits by uselessly, hands fluttering as if unsure what to do. Derek kneels on Stiles' other side, taking his hand, rubbing his cheek against it, inhaling his familiar scent through the blood and the fear.

 

“You have to turn him,” Derek tells Scott who nods.

 

“No.” Stiles grabs Scott's arm.

 

“Stiles, you're gonna die. Please let me do this.” Scott is crying now, pressing his forehead against Stiles'.

 

“No.” It's a whisper this time.

 

“What am I supposed to do without you, huh? Come on Stiles! You'll be fine, it's not so bad. You'll be a bit hairy but that's what waxing is for, right?” Scott chokes out a laugh. A smile touches Stiles' lips, but he shakes his head.

 

“I'm good. Dude, I'm the abominable Snowman. Can't beat that.”

 

“Stiles, please,” Derek says, because this is madness. “I know losing him feels like the end of the world but you can't give up.”

 

“You've got us,” Allison says, reaching for his other hand.

 

“Bite him,” Derek urges.

 

“He doesn't want-” Scott begins.

 

“But he'll live,” Derek interrupts.

 

Scott looks at Stiles, their eyes locked and there's a million things between them. “Please,” Scott begs, and it comes out a whimper.

 

“I love you man. I'll watch over you-” Stiles gags, clutching his chest where the blood is oozing. “God knows you'll need it. Clutz.” He grins, clutching Derek's hand. Derek takes his pain, it's the only thing he can do now.

 

“I love you too, bro.” Scott tries to smile. Derek wouldn't have been as strong as him, would have bitten Stiles' anyway.

 

Stiles breathes out in a sigh, then doesn't breathe in.

 

Death is final. Derek if anyone knows that. All the possibilities gone between one breath and the next. He rubs his face against Stiles' cheek, to remember his scent, to remember _him_ and all he could have been.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hey you guys. I hope you enjoyed this fic. It's actually my first angst!teen wolf so do let me know what you think. 
> 
> If you need cheering up I've written several humor!Sterek ;)


End file.
